


a poison that never stung

by mullethyuck



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Blood and Gore, Christianity, Knives, M/M, Magical Realism, Owls, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Russian Mythology, Walks In The Woods, also technically a high school au i guess but like it's mostly irrelevant, brief mentions of farms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mullethyuck/pseuds/mullethyuck
Summary: Jaemin has heard the stories of the monster that lives in the woods.All he finds is a boy.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Na Jaemin, Lee Jeno & Na Jaemin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	a poison that never stung

**Author's Note:**

> it's nana day!! happy bday to the bestest boy in the whole world ^^; jaemin my love i hope your day is even half as wonderful as you are <3
> 
> [these](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/i4hafy/wp_an_owl_takes_your_voice_chase_it_and_see_where/) [posts](https://thanatosjr.tumblr.com/post/150856810547/instructions-for-a-walk-in-the-woods) inspired this fic and the title is from a [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_JUReD3QoE) because i vibed to hozier while writing this
> 
> heads up i am very sorry to anyone who speaks russian because i'm sure google translate did me dirty...and if you happen to notice any errors in general please let me know!! i finished this literally two hours before jaem's birthday so it's totally unedited rip

Jaemin has heard the stories of the monster that lives in the woods.

He’s heard the whispers: his mother telling her church friends about a missing girl, his father off to join the search party for a lumberjack who never came home, his best friend Jeno buying him a necklace with a cross on it when they were twelve because, “I want you to be safe, Nana.” He’s heard it his whole life; don’t go too deep into the woods, or you’ll lose your way. Once you lose your way, it’s already too late.

Then again, he’s also been told never to wander into the woods after dark, but sometimes the rules simply don’t apply. Or rather, another rule becomes more important.

So, naturally, when he hears something thumping against his window one hot summer night, he rolls out of bed to slide the pane up and see what could possibly be so intent on breaking into his second story room. He’s not expecting the biggest barn owl he’s ever seen to burst into the room in a frantic heap of feathers, and he certainly isn’t expecting it to open its mouth and speak.

“Come with me,” it says in a voice that sounds achingly familiar for a reason Jaemin can’t place. “There is something I must show you.”

“Why?” he asks, because it’s human nature to demand an explanation for the inexplicable.

“Come with me,” the owl repeats, in that same voice. “There is something I must show you.”

And well, Jaemin may question the mystic and mysterious once, but he knows better than to ask twice. He can practically hear Jeno reminding him that he’s pushing his luck as it is. “Okay,” he agrees, and it’s in this moment it hits him - he recognizes the owl’s voice because it’s also his own. _If an owl takes your voice, chase it. See where it takes you,_ his mother always used to say, and Jaemin may not argue with magic but he argues even less with his mama. “Just let me put some shoes on.”

The owl just nods, once, patiently watching Jaemin stumble around the room from its perch on his desk chair. Jaemin briefly wonders why it was in such a hurry to get his attention only to sit and watch him dawdle, but he figures it’s best not to question it. He pulls on a pair of mismatched socks, shoves his feet into his ratty old tennis shoes, and straightens up to look at the owl expectantly.

“Follow me. There is something I must show you.” Jaemin nods, and the owl flaps its wings a couple times before disappearing into the night.

Jaemin leans out over the windowsill and calls into the darkness, “Wait for me!” He squints, but he still can’t see the owl, and he really hopes it didn’t leave him because he isn’t sure what it wants but he doesn’t think it would be happy if he stayed behind. Even if it was an accident. Magic doesn’t leave room for accidents.

He only feels a little ridiculous climbing down the tree next to the house, his phone in his mouth so he can use the flashlight to see where he’s going, but he feels exponentially more ridiculous when his feet hit the grass and he’s standing there in nothing but his boxers and a t-shirt waiting for an owl to give him instructions. He really hopes his parents can’t see the phone flashlight through their bedroom window. He isn’t strictly doing anything wrong, but this would be a bit hard to explain.

He hears another “Follow me,” from somewhere above his head, and when he looks up the owl is circling him. “There is something I must show you.”

“Okay, I got it,” he says, partially because he hates the sound of his own voice, especially coming from such a peculiar source, but also it’s getting a little redundant. “Show me.”

The owl doesn’t answer, thankfully, just flies off in the direction of the woods. Jaemin’s every instinct is telling him not to go traipsing into a dark forest late at night, but at this point he’s committed. It’s never a good idea to argue with magic, but it’s even worse to back out after a promise. (Not that he technically promised the owl anything, but magic has a way of making every word binding.)

So he follows, and the owl is polite enough to pause every so often and wait for Jaemin to catch up, because human legs are not ideal for travelling quickly over tree roots and slippery moss and rocks that show up out of nowhere. Plus, Jaemin only has his phone flashlight to work with, which is unnecessarily bright but doesn’t cover much area. The owl has its night vision eyes, which is kind of an unfair advantage, but Jaemin can’t really fault it for that.

He walks for what feels like miles, nothing but trees and the owl and the giant bugs that his flashlight keeps attracting to keep him company. Every so often something will fly at him or he’ll trip over god knows what and get _another_ bruise on one of his shins and he briefly considers turning around and going back to his nice, comfortable bed. But between the darkness and the convoluted path the owl has them on, he has no idea where he is anymore. He’d get lost in a second, and then he’d be dead in two, probably. So he takes another bug to the face and ignores the trickle of blood from his left knee, and keeps his eyes on his guide.

He’s afraid to look away, really, because the bugs and the darkness and the general perils of nature may be daunting, but they’re nothing compared to the noises. Just because he can’t see what’s in the trees or just on the edges of his periphery doesn’t mean he can’t hear them, and he isn’t surprised but it’s still unsettling. His mother always told him it’s okay, _they’re just checking on you,_ but Jaemin is starting to think he’s one snap of a twig away from ripping his hair out at the roots. He whispers the prayer of protection on repeat and focuses all his nervous energy on not tripping, instead.

And then, suddenly, they stop. He catches up to the owl where it’s sitting on a rock, and when he halts to stand beside it, the owl doesn’t move. It just looks at him with its wide, unblinking eyes, and Jaemin swears it’s found a way to peer right through his soul. Maybe it has. He’ll never know, because after a solid minute of Jaemin’s futile attempts to beat an owl at a staring contest, the bird just lifts off the rock and disappears into the night.

Well, shit.

It takes Jaemin the rest of the night to find his way back home. He staggers through the kitchen door just as his parents are sitting down for breakfast, and they lock eyes for a moment before his mother takes one look at the dirt and grime caked onto his once-white shoes and tells him he’d better not track that into the house. He kicks his shoes off and collapses into the chair his father pulls out for him as his mother fixes him a plate of pancakes.

“So, what was that all about?” his father asks after several minutes of silence, gesturing to Jaemin’s soiled sneakers.

Jaemin shakes his head, fiddling with the cross around his neck. “I don’t know.”

-

In Jaemin’s experience (or rather, the stories his mother has told him), magic is never a fluke. It’s not chance, or happenstance; it’s deliberate, intentional. There’s a purpose somewhere, even if it doesn’t seem so obvious at first contact. So when the owl’s objective isn’t obvious from their first encounter, Jaemin knows he’d better be ready for another visit.

And he is. He has the foresight to wear sweatpants to bed, and put bug spray on, and he goes to sleep as early as possible to get as much rest as he can. He knows he’ll be awake late into the night, and he’d rather not be a complete zombie tomorrow. To put it shortly, he’s as prepared as one can ever be for a magical owl forcing its way into their life and dragging them on a seemingly fruitless adventure.

He’s woken hours later by the same thumping sound from the night before, and he doesn’t even wait for the owl to say anything before he tells it, “I’m putting my shoes on, just a sec.”

He throws on the same old worn tennis shoes, and by the time he’s done double knotting his laces, the owl is flying off toward the forest. Jaemin huffs as he grabs his phone and the survival knife that sits on his dresser and opens the window, climbing out and shimmying down the tree much faster than last time. He moves his phone from his mouth to his left hand, since his right hand is preoccupied with holding onto the cross pendant he never takes off like it’s a lifeline.

“Follow me. There is something I must show you,” the owl says, only once, in Jaemin’s stolen voice. Jaemin just nods and holds a hand out as if to say, _after you._ The owl flies toward the treeline without so much as a glance back to make sure Jaemin’s following. It’s probably figured out by now that Jaemin is smart enough to do what it says.

He’s also smart enough to realize that anything can happen in the heart of the woods, especially in the middle of the night, when magic is most powerful. And Jaemin isn’t naive enough to assume that every magical being he encounters has his best interests at heart, so tonight he utters the prayer of protection under his breath from the moment he crosses the treeline. He isn’t worried enough to keep a hand on his knife, but it does offer a sense of security just knowing it’s there, strapped to his leg, if he needs it. He hopes he won’t, because most things in the forest are too strong to be hurt by an ordinary blade. He wishes he had Jeno’s enchanted bowie knife right about now.

After what is admittedly a much quicker journey than last night (Jaemin trips a lot less this time around), they stop at the same place as before. Jaemin can tell, because the owl lands on the same rock, stares at him the same way for several long moments - but this time, when it flies away, Jaemin follows it with his flashlight. He can’t tell where it goes, but it doesn’t matter; he doesn’t think he’s meant to find out.

If he had to bet, he’d say he’s probably supposed to find the cave it flies over. He isn’t about to enter the cave, or even get near it, because even if he’s meant to find it, that doesn’t mean the darkness hides anything good within it. But he hadn’t noticed it the night before, so he thinks maybe this is a step in the right direction. Metaphorically speaking, obviously, because he stays where he is.

He plants his feet and holds his phone out as far as he can in a futile attempt to break up the darkness so he can catch a glimpse of whatever lies inside. His arm is just starting to get sore, eyes darting frantically, searching for a sign of anything, really, when the light catches a flash of something at the entrance of the cave. He jerks his phone back to the right, and that’s when he sees it.

Two eyes, little dots of fluorescent green staring intently at him. Jaemin’s stood on one side of a clearing of sorts, trees thinning out just enough to offer some visibility. The cave is at the other side, directly across the gap from Jaemin’s position, and the eyes are nearly perfectly aligned with his line of sight. Jaemin stares into them for several heartbeats, frozen where he stands. He can hear the rumble of low voices in the trees, chanting his name like a mantra, or a spell. He doesn’t answer, because _you never answer when the forest calls your name._

Then, suddenly, the eyes blink, and disappear. The forest goes silent, and Jaemin waits ten minutes before he turns and makes his way home without knowing who - or what - they belonged to. He can’t tell if he’s disappointed or not.

-

The next night, Jaemin is determined. He’s wearing a proper shirt and jeans, and he already has his shoes on an hour before the barn owl shows up. His knife is once again at his thigh, and his phone is in his pocket, and his cross necklace is tucked against his chest, right at his heart. He props the window open, and starts whispering the prayer of protection as he paces around his room.

The owl doesn’t bother entering the room this time. “Follow me,” Jaemin hears himself say from the tree by the house, “There is something I must show you.” Jaemin doesn’t even answer, just climbs down the tree and starts off in the direction of the woods without giving the owl a chance to get a head start.

Jaemin’s muscle memory kicks in almost immediately, and he doesn’t lose his footing once on the trek to the clearing. The owl seems to notice, flying faster as the night goes on, barely pausing to see that Jaemin is keeping pace. It doesn’t matter in the end, because Jaemin doesn’t lose sight of his guide once.

They reach their spot, and the owl doesn’t stop to land on the rock, opting to fly off into the dark and leave Jaemin alone across from the cave instead. Jaemin waits; he’s never been a patient person, but he wills himself so, as it’s never a wise decision to rush magic. And if he’s being completely honest, he isn’t so sure he wants to learn what lurks in the darkness. Jeno would call it self-preservation, but Jaemin calls it terror.

After what feels like a small eternity, when the world is turning purple and the birds are starting to flit around the forest canopy, Jaemin sees those eyes again. They’re even more penetrating in the dawn, somehow, contrasted against the lilac sky and the black of the cave entrance. Jaemin braces himself, because eyes that mesmerizing can’t belong to anything good. He presses his eyes shut, steels himself, and opens them again, only to be met with a pair of emeralds staring into his soul.

And Jaemin may have been ready for a monster, an abomination, maybe even a beast; but nothing could have prepared him for the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen in his seventeen years on this earth. He’s all fluffy hair and tan skin and lithe limbs, and when his plush lips part in surprise at Jaemin’s shock, he has the most charming teeth Jaemin has ever seen. Jaemin does the sign of the cross out of reflex.

At his movement, the boy looks at him weirdly, like he’s puzzled by Jaemin’s reaction, which would admittedly be fair under normal circumstances. Unfortunately, a barn owl showing up at Jaemin’s home wielding his voice and dragging him into the thick of the woods only to find a boy living in a cave is decidedly _not_ normal circumstances, so Jaemin hopes the boy will forgive his panic.

The boy doesn’t pardon Jaemin, but he doesn’t curse him either, so perhaps that’s something to be thankful for. Jaemin looks at his feet, because those green eyes are too piercing, and he feels exposed under the boy’s scrutiny. He kicks a rock with the scuffed toe of his shoe, and when it rolls over to the boy, Jaemin is surprised what he finds - or rather, what he doesn’t find; the boy doesn’t have a shadow. Jaemin isn’t entirely sure what to do with that, but it isn’t like he didn’t already know this boy is something _other._ Magic has no obligation to bend to the rules of this world.

They stand there, Jaemin shifting his weight every so often, the boy completely still, for what must be hours, but can’t be that long because the sky is just turning honey kissed when the boy finally breaks eye contact. It makes his skin glow golden, which makes the green of his eyes even more intense. Jaemin isn’t sure if the boy is gorgeous or terrifying; but then again, maybe he’s both. Reverence does have an element of dread, after all.

In the end, the boy does nothing to ease Jaemin’s mind or confirm his fears. He just nods, turns on his heel, and plods back to the cave. When he reaches the entrance, he turns for barely a moment, meeting Jaemin’s eyes one more time to flash him a toothy grin. Then he takes another step, and vanishes. Jaemin gets the feeling he doesn’t want to be followed. _If you have a bad feeling about taking a certain path, don’t,_ he hears his mother say. _You’ll avoid whatever is waiting for you at the end of it._

Jaemin sucks in a breath, closing his eyes and turning his face to the sky to soak in the morning. When he gets back home, he’ll have to come up with some excuse for being out all night, and help his mother around the house, and help his father in the barn; but for now, he revels in the calm before the storm.

-

By now, Jaemin has a routine.

He eats dinner, brushes his teeth, and goes to bed for a few precious hours of sleep before the owl inevitably comes to fetch him. By then, he’s been awake for well over an hour, and he’s dressed and armed and he’s said at least ten prayers of protection just in case. He likes to think he’s well prepared, and he’s never hoped that’s true as much as he currently does.

Particularly now, when they reach the clearing and the owl leaves to do whatever bewitched animals do when they’re not carrying out their purpose, and he’s left alone in the dark with nothing to do but wait. Wait for what, he isn’t sure; but he can hear the whispers of the woods and he knows that if he isn’t sure what to do, it’s best not to do anything. Making the wrong choice is so much worse than not choosing at all.

The boy doesn’t keep him waiting long, at least. Jaemin sees him coming as soon as he steps into the mouth of the cave; his glowing green eyes cut through the night to pierce Jaemin’s soul, and if Jaemin was frozen before, now he’s petrified. He isn’t sure if it’s magic or just his fight or flight response kicking into overdrive, but either way he chooses to stay.

The boy comes to stand barely a foot in front of him, and he pauses, like he’s waiting for something. Jaemin does nothing, just holds his breath like he’s afraid if he so much as sighs he’ll break whatever spell the boy is casting. After a minute, the boy smiles, perfect teeth catching the light, and Jaemin can’t help but return the gesture.

“I’m Donghyuck,” the boy says. His voice sounds like honey tastes, and Jaemin’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth.

“Jaemin,” he introduces himself, and the boy nods.

“I know. I sent for you.” He doesn’t offer an explanation, just lets the words linger in the air. He almost looks like he’s hoping Jaemin will ask why; he’s standing unnaturally still, but the look on his face makes it seem like he’s about to start bouncing with excitement.

Jaemin doesn’t know what Donghyuck is anticipating, but he does know it’s better to ask what Donghyuck wants rather than proposing something himself. He settles on, “What do you want?” because it’s probably best to be straightforward. Learning a name doesn’t mean he knows who he’s dealing with.

“I want a friend,” is not what Jaemin is expecting him to say.

He’s a little caught off guard. “What does that have to do with me?” Jaemin asks, because he isn’t about to suggest himself. Just last month, Jeno told him about a little boy who said he’d be a vila’s friend, even though the nymph probably would’ve left him alone if he hadn’t offered. He’s been missing ever since.

Donghyuck’s smile softens, lips closing, head tilting. “I want you to be my friend, Jaemin.”

Well, there’s no getting around it, then. “What do I have to do to be your friend?” 

And Jaemin isn’t stupid. He knows this is probably the end - he’s heard stories of deals made with magic. Some people swear to run away, or give up their firstborn, or even murder someone dear to them. It’s generally not an ideal exchange. So while Donghyuck brings a finger to his chin, like he’s weighing his options, Jaemin stands there and waits to hear his sentence. In the span of ten seconds, he’s already said goodbye to his mother, his father, Jeno, and everyone else who’s ever mattered to him. And to himself, in some ways.

But Donghyuck doesn’t want anything like the stories Jaemin’s been told since he was a little boy. “Give me the cross around your neck.” It’s not a question, but Donghyuck doesn’t say it like an order, either. Like he’s giving Jaemin the chance to decline.

But Jaemin isn’t one to argue with magic. He never has been, and he never will, because his mother made sure he knew not to play a game he could never win. His hand closes around the charm protectively for a split second, and he whispers an apology to Jeno before moving to unclasp the chain and slip it from around his neck. He cradles it in his palm, the silver glinting in the light from his phone, and presses a brief kiss to the cross. He isn’t sure if it’s a goodbye or atonement.

Then he places it in Donghyuck’s outstretched hand, and Donghyuck’s smile stretches back over his teeth. “Thank you,” he says as he slides the gift over his neck. Jaemin doesn’t respond besides a miniscule nod. “We’re going to be great friends, Jaemin.” Jaemin can’t exactly say he agrees, but he isn’t particularly convinced either way. He’s afraid to open his mouth, in case he says something damning.

In the end it doesn’t matter, because Donghyuck just gives him an encouraging nod before turning abruptly and heading off in the direction of the cave. He doesn’t look back until he’s halfway through the entrance; when he does, his eyes find Jaemin’s immediately. Jaemin can’t see his expression, but Donghyuck’s gaze bores into his soul all the same. Then he turns away, and fades into the dark.

Even when Jaemin gets home, he has this nagging feeling that he’s made a mistake. He doesn’t sleep at all that night.

-

It’s possible that, after everything, Jaemin still doesn’t know as much about the mythical and miraculous as he thinks he does. He’s heard all the stories, learned all the prayers, seen all the consequences that come with getting on the wrong side of magic.

Jaemin’s never seen magic like this.

He’s caught off guard, the next night, when Donghyuck doesn’t even keep him waiting. As soon as he enters the clearing, Donghyuck is practically materializing in front of him and saying that since they’re friends now, he wants to teach Jaemin some spells.

“What kind of spells?” he asks, obviously. He may not like to disagree with magical beings as a general rule, but if Donghyuck wants to teach him something like necromancy he’s going to have to politely decline. There are some boundaries that just shouldn’t be crossed.

Donghyuck just reaches out to tug him by the wrist toward a rock on the other side of a particularly large tree. There’s a bear cub there, leg bloodied and broken, and the poor thing looks terrified. Jaemin wonders where its mother is.

“She probably left him behind, since he’ll die if that injury is left untreated,” Donghyuck says, like he’s read Jaemin’s mind. Then he looks up at Jaemin, and the green of his eyes is almost lime it’s so vivid. “Do you want to help him?”

Jaemin nods, because what kind of monster would say no? “Of course.”

Donghyuck gives him a lopsided little smile, corners of his lips quirking up unevenly. “Repeat after me, okay?” Jaemin nods again. Donghyuck guides his hand to the cub’s head, and Jaemin pets it while Donghyuck starts speaking, low and soft and soothing.

_“Eto zaklinaniye, kotoroye ya proiznoshu._

_Ot ploti k ploti, ot kostey do kostey._

_Sukhozhiliya - k sukhozhiliyam, i veny - k venam._

_I medvezhonok sdelan_

_snova tseloye.”_

Jaemin doesn’t know what the words mean, but Donghyuck repeats them once more and then he’s putting an arm on Jaemin’s shoulder and Jaemin is trying his best to follow along. They feel wrong on his tongue, don’t sound as natural as they do in Donghyuck’s steady whisper, but they do their job. Jaemin looks back down after the fourth repetition, and the cub is back on his feet and looking like nothing happened. Jaemin pulls his hand back, and the cub nuzzles them both before bounding off into the trees.

“We did that?” Jaemin asks when the cub is out of sight. He looks up at Donghyuck from where he’s still kneeling on the ground, and Donghyuck beams at him.

“See what magic can do when you use it well?” Donghyuck asks as Jaemin straightens up to stand behind him. “You’re a natural.”

And well, Jaemin has heard a lot of things about magic, but most of them have been dreadful, and he’s certainly never heard of someone healing such a severe wound so easily. So naturally, he says, “Will you teach me?”

Donghyuck throws an arm around his shoulders, nodding with a twinkle in his eye. “You’re going to be great, Jaemin.”

The next day, Jaemin finds the spell works on Jeno’s cat, too. And if Jeno wonders how Bongsik’s hurt paw heals so quickly, he doesn’t say anything.

-

When Jaemin finds Donghyuck the following night, he’s holding something small and fragile in his hands, letting it nestle into his palms. Jaemin approaches slowly, so he doesn’t startle whatever it is, and Donghyuck gives him a reassuring smile, tilting his head to call him over. “It’s okay, Jaemin. She knows we’re going to help her.”

Jaemin perks up at that, closing the distance between them, assuming Donghyuck’s found another injured animal for them to rescue - but when he moves to stand beside Donghyuck, peering over his shoulder at the tiny warbler in his hands, nothing seems visibly wrong. “Is she okay?” he asks, because he doesn’t know much about animals, but the little bird seems to be moving around just fine on her own.

Donghyuck makes a noncommittal noise. “She’s not hurt. She just can’t sleep, is all.”

Jaemin looks down at Donghyuck, eyebrows raised. “There’s a spell for that?”

Donghyuck flashes him another one of those disarming smiles, and there’s something beneath the surface of it that Jaemin can’t name. “There’s a spell for everything.” He pauses, studying Jaemin’s face, and he knows Donghyuck is waiting for something.

And Jaemin is well aware that it’s a terrible idea to ask anything of the extraordinary, but by now he also knows that Donghyuck is good, and honest, and uses his magic to heal, not hurt. So he says, “Will you teach me?”

“I’ll teach you anything you want.” Donghyuck’s smile grows, the undercurrent of some unidentified emotion growing stronger as he bares his teeth. “Hold out your hand.”

Jaemin answers with a grin of his own, and Donghyuck whispers something to the bird, prompting her to flutter into Jaemin’s outstretched palm. He holds her gingerly, afraid to mar her slight frame. The warbler peers up at him, leaning her head to the side as if to inspect him more closely. Jaemin returns her gaze, and he feels a little ridiculous trying to silently communicate with a bird, but somehow he gets the feeling she can understand his sentiment.

“Repeat after me,” Donghyuck says again before placing a hand over Jaemin’s, stroking the warbler’s back with a feather-light touch. Jaemin nods, and Donghyuck recites the spell in that same comforting voice he’d used on the bear cub the night before, quiet and mellow and sweet.

_“Luna - tvoy drug, smotrit na tebya,_

_privnosya yego krasotu v vashi mechty._

_Zvezdy zdes', chtoby siyat' vechno,_

_prinosya bezmyatezhnost' i dushevnyy pokoy._

_Kogda vy zakroyete glaza, oni ne ischeznut,_

_sokhranyaya vas v bezopasnosti do rassveta.”_

This time, Jaemin joins in for the second round, and it only takes three repetitions before the little bird is fast asleep in Jaemin’s hold. Donghyuck moves his hand to stroke Jaemin’s arm proudly, and Jaemin beams.

-

Here’s the thing about monsters; it's only a monster if you fear it. A monster becomes something else entirely if you learn how it works, what it wants. It’s not in a monster’s nature to be tamed, but if you respect it, it might let you in on a secret or two.

Weeks go by, and Donghyuck teaches Jaemin more than he ever thought possible. He summons rain, befriends animals, and grows trees on command. Jaemin begins to think that maybe there was never a monster in these woods to begin with. Or if there is, maybe he’s just misunderstood. Surely Donghyuck couldn’t have caused any of the peril that he’s so often credited with; perhaps it’s nothing more than misplaced grief that needs a scapegoat.

He still doesn’t tell anyone what he gets up to in the heart of the night, though, because he knows how it would sound. His father assumes he’s on some teenage quest for fulfillment, one last summer of rebellion before he goes back to school and inevitably becomes an adult. His mother thinks it’s nothing more than a surreptitious fling, a relationship he isn’t willing to tell them about yet. Jeno has multiple theories, but his most recent hypothesis is that Jaemin’s resigned himself to becoming a hermit (which is dramatic, because Jaemin still texts him daily, and calls him whenever he can).

The one thing that everyone has noticed is his general languor; the bruises that have made a home beneath his sunken eyes, the pallor of his skin, the way he almost seems to move in slow motion, like he’s underwater. As it turns out, staying awake all night is not a sustainable way to spend an indefinite amount of time. So, when the owl hammers against his window one night, the beating of its wings breaking through the stillness, Jaemin has already come to terms with what he has to do.

He slides the pane up, and the owl must sense what he’s about to say, because it enters his room to touch down on his desk chair for the first time in the better part of a month. It stares at him, gaze unblinking, for a solid minute before it speaks. The voice is still Jaemin’s, but this time it’s hoarse from lack of use. The message is the same, too. “Follow me. There is something I must show you.”

Jaemin shakes his head ever so slightly, afraid to make any sudden movements. He’s never argued with the owl before, or anything magical, for that matter, so he doesn’t know what to expect. He isn’t so sure this is a good idea at all, really - but neither is dying from exhaustion. “I’m sorry, I can’t tonight.”

The barn owl shifts, flapping its wings a couple times as if it’s trying to convince him. “Follow me,” Jaemin hears his own voice say again, “There is something I must show you.”

Jaemin takes a step toward the bird, slowly, hands in front of his chest as if to placate the creature, despite the fact it doesn’t seem bothered by his invasion of its personal space. It just cocks its head, gives him the chance to explain. “I can’t stay up all night, every night. I need sleep,” he says simply, because he has no other reason. He hopes the owl understands. “I don’t want to miss anything, or upset you or Donghyuck, but I can’t keep doing this. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t exactly know why he keeps apologizing, since the owl seems unperturbed, but maybe it’s just compulsory.

The owl doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. All Jaemin gets is a fleeting look and a curt nod, and then the bird’s gone.

-

For what it’s worth, Jaemin feels exponentially better the next day. He’s gotten more sleep in one night than the rest of the week combined, and he isn’t relying solely on inordinate amounts of caffeine to get him through the day for once in nearly a month. He has breakfast with his parents, finishes his chores in record time, and even, by some miracle, finds the time to braid his favourite mare’s mane just to give her a little extra love. It’s the best day he’s had in a while, if he’s being honest.

He’s determined to make the night amazing, too. He isn’t entirely sure how Donghyuck will react to his brief absence, but he thinks it’s best to get to him as soon as physically possible. He’s dressed and ready in his worn out sneakers much earlier than necessary, sitting in a tipped-back chair, nervously tapping a pencil against the desktop while he stares the window down for any sign of his nightly visitor. He opened the window before he ever ate dinner.

The barn owl doesn’t come inside, tonight. “Follow me,” it says from somewhere just beyond the tree Jaemin is already climbing down. “There is something I must show you.” Jaemin listens. He’s halfway to the treeline before the owl even finishes its sentence.

By now, Jaemin knows this forest like the back of his hand. He could probably navigate through the trees blindfolded; at this point, he doesn’t even bother wasting his phone battery on a flashlight. Most nights, he doesn’t bring his phone at all.

They reach the little haven of sorts, and Donghyuck is sitting on the rock that the owl usually lands on. Tonight, the owl settles on Donghyuck’s shoulder. He strokes its breast with a finger, turning to face Jaemin as he steps up beside him. “Hello, Jaemin,” Donghyuck greets him with a smile. The green of his eyes blazes brighter for one brief moment. 

Jaemin doesn’t say anything, just offers Donghyuck his most winning smile and moves to sit beside him. Donghyuck shifts on the rock to make room, and the owl flies off into the night as Donghyuck slings an arm over Jaemin’s shoulders. “So,” Donghyuck says, casual as ever, “how do you feel about blessing a new colony of bees?”

Jaemin beams at him. “I’d love to.”

Donghyuck looks pleased, and his smile gets an unsettling edge to it that makes it look almost like a sneer. “Perfect. Let’s go, then.” He gives Jaemin’s shoulder a squeeze that’s just bordering on uncomfortable before standing to lead him deeper into the woods.

Donghyuck teaches him the spell, patient as always, and Jaemin picks it up as quickly as expected. The bees are sleeping, so there isn’t much else they can do for them directly. Usually, that’s Jaemin’s cue to leave; or rather, Donghyuck typically retreats back to his cave as soon as they’ve cast their spell for the night. This time, he walks back over to the rock.

He doesn’t sit back down, but Jaemin does; on some instinctive level, he understands that Donghyuck wants him to. Donghyuck doesn’t waste any time asking the question Jaemin’s been dreading all night. “Where were you yesterday, Jaemin?” It’s innocent enough, but Jaemin still feels like he’s being scolded.

“I had to sleep,” he explains, even though it should probably be obvious. Maybe it is, and Donghyuck just wants to hear Jaemin say it to his face. “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t stop smiling. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” Always smiling; the force of his grin looks almost painful, cutting through the soft features of his face.

“Of course,” Jaemin answers, because he believes it to be true.

Donghyuck perks up again, nearly tackling Jaemin in a hug. “Good!” He stands in front of Jaemin, arms slung loosely around his neck as he looks up into Jaemin’s eyes. The green of his irises _burns._ “So don’t abandon me again.”

-

Jaemin listens.

He doesn’t know what else to do, and it’s not like it requires any extra effort, anyway. He goes about his days as usual, rests when he can, and he’s ready to leave well before the owl shows up outside his window. He does as Donghyuck says, and learns a new spell each night, and there’s no hint of hostility between them. It’s nice. Or well, it is until it isn’t.

It’s been two weeks since Jaemin made the mistake of ignoring the owl (and by extension, Donghyuck) when he gets the call. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, really, so he doesn’t think anything of it. “Jeno?”

“Hey, Nana,” comes his best friend’s voice through the phone. “Do you wanna sleep over tonight?”

And while it’s sweet that Jeno keeps asking, even after so many weeks of his best attempts getting shot down, it is a bit of a hassle. “Sorry, I can’t,” is all Jaemin says, because it’s probably best not to get into _why._

“Aw, why not?” Jeno asks anyway, because he has no idea how loaded that question really is. Jaemin knows he could tell him, but he’s in too deep and at this point he’s starting to think it’s best if Jeno never finds out.

Jaemin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hates having this conversation. “It’s complicated.” 

“That’s not an answer and you know it,” Jeno argues, and Jaemin can practically see his pout. “C’mon, it’s been forever since we hung out and summer is almost over! We gotta make memories, dude.”

Jaemin doesn’t necessarily disagree, even if Jeno makes the summer before senior year sound much more climactic than it actually is. He weighs his options: on one hand, skipping another night with Donghyuck probably isn’t in his best interest - on the other hand, neither is isolating himself from the person he loves most in the world. Jaemin’s well aware that defying magic is not a wise decision, but, well. He’s seventeen, and stupid, and he misses his best friend, and the impending dawn of fall makes it seem like they’re running out of time. Fuck it. “What time should I come over?”

When he sees Jeno waiting on the porch, it’s like coming home. Jeno spins him around in a hug, already rambling about all the fun things they’re going to do today, and Jaemin just laughs and lets him talk because it’s nice to hear his voice in person. It’s so hard to have a social life with his sleep schedule so fucked, but maybe a little extra exhaustion is worth it to see his best friend this happy.

They’re riding their bikes around the neighbourhood when Jeno notices it. “Hey, where’s your cross?”

Once again, Jaemin isn’t sure how to answer, so he just blurts, “What?”

Jeno shakes his head, eye smile out in full force. He points to his neck. “Y’know, the one I got for you when we were kids.”

“Oh, duh,” Jaemin says with an awkward laugh. “I, uh. I forgot to put it on this morning.” He scratches his neck sheepishly.

Jeno doesn’t look like he buys it, considering up until last month Jaemin hadn’t taken the necklace off once in five years, but he’s too decent to call Jaemin out on his bluff. “Don’t forget again, Nana. I want you to be safe.” Jaemin feels like a despicable human being for lying, but then Jeno is giving him a comforting smile to let him know it’s okay and popping a wheelie before speeding off ahead.

That day he spends with Jeno will remain one of his favourites. They don’t do much, honestly, and it’s nothing special, but just having Jeno around is a luxury Jaemin had almost forgotten he could have. They eat fast food and annoy Jeno’s sister who’s home from college and play Jeno’s Xbox till they both collapse in a heap on his bed. Jaemin drifts off to sleep feeling more content than he’s felt in a while.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

The owl finds him. Frankly, he should have seen it coming, but he’d lulled himself into a false sense of security as if Jeno’s presence alone would somehow keep the more hidden parts of his life at bay. The only problem with that theory is, clearly, that said hidden parts of his life don’t especially care if they get found out, so they don’t exactly put forth any effort at subtlety.

A giant barn owl ramming into Jeno’s bedroom window in the dead of night is definitely not subtle. “Follow me,” Jaemin’s voice says through the glass. “There is something I must show you.”

Jaemin has never sprung out of bed so quickly; he rushes to the window and slides the pane up as quietly as humanly possible. It’s a bit of a challenge, since it gets stuck halfway up, but Jeno doesn’t wake up so Jaemin breathes out a sigh of relief. “I can’t go tonight,” he tells the owl simply, as soon as the glass is out of the way.

The bird doesn’t reply, but it does hover for a minute. Jaemin hears Jeno stirring where he’s still sprawled out on the bed, and he instantly panics. He tries to calm down, he really does. _Don’t be scared, but be really, really wary._ “Please go away,” he begs the owl. “I don’t want him to find out about this.” He can’t explain why, really, because he’s not doing anything but good with what Donghyuck’s teaching him, but for some reason he still doesn’t think Jeno would approve. Maybe deep down, Jaemin knows that making a pact with magic is never _all_ good.

-

As it turns out, maybe he’s right.

The next night, he’s back with his frayed jeans and his knife strapped to his thigh and his sneakers laced up, pacing around his bedroom while he waits for the owl. It comes, naturally, right on time, but doesn’t enter the room; it doesn’t have much of an opportunity to, anyway, since Jaemin is climbing out of the open window as soon as the owl comes into view.

Jaemin leads the way, tonight, as the owl soars above, more of a companion than a guide. Jaemin wonders how much of his current dilemma the owl truly comprehends, but that’s a little unfair considering Jaemin himself doesn’t have a firm grasp on the situation. He knows Donghyuck won’t be happy, but that goes without saying; Jaemin’s more worried about what Donghyuck will do about it.

It’s strange, being so on edge. He’s gotten so used to letting his guard down around Donghyuck, trusting him, but now his heart won’t stop trying to beat its way through his ribcage. Just before they reach the clearing, Jaemin says the prayer of protection that he hasn’t used in so long. It dawns on him too late that maybe he should have said it more than once.

Donghyuck is waiting for him again; he’s letting a beetle crawl on his outstretched finger, and it flies away as Donghyuck turns at the sound of Jaemin’s approach. The owl leaves faster than Jaemin has ever seen it go, which Jaemin is slightly envious of right about now. Usually he loves being with Donghyuck, but at the moment he wishes he were anywhere but here.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here last night,” Jaemin blurts the second he reaches Donghyuck’s side. “I just -”

Donghyuck cuts him off with the smile Jaemin’s come to know so well, but this time, it’s all wrong. It’s harsh, somehow, the promise of kindness gone. “It’s okay, Jaemin! I just wondered where you were, is all.” He sticks out his bottom lip, and Jaemin can see the saliva threatening to drip off of his teeth.

“Oh,” Jaemin says intelligently, distracted by Donghyuck’s mouth in an entirely foreign way. The words he’s saying are as pretty as ever, but Jaemin almost wishes he’d just bite his head off and get it over with. Even wrath would be better than this sick anticipation. Jaemin feels like he’s walking on eggshells, waiting for a jump scare - his muscles are wound so tight he can’t stand still. “Well, I missed you.” The sad thing is, it’s not even a lie.

Donghyuck seems to know that, and he pulls Jaemin into a hug. It’s comforting, even if it shouldn’t be. They’re both too tense to make it genuine. “I missed you too, my Jaemin.” Donghyuck pulls away, and Jaemin stands there waiting for instructions.

When none come, he asks, “What are we doing tonight?” He knows it’s an awful thing to ask, knows never to offer such an open-ended proposition to a creature of magic, but he’s desperate. Desperate for what, he has no idea. Just desperate.

Donghyuck’s smile turns into something almost sad, then. “Nothing at all,” he says calmly. Jaemin doesn’t know what he means by that. He says as much, and Donghyuck wraps a gentle hand around Jaemin’s wrist. “You need a break, don’t you?”

Jaemin shrugs, apprehensive. “I just need to be able to sleep.”

Donghyuck nods, but the movement is too jerky to be natural. “Go get some sleep, then. We can continue another night.”

Jaemin studies Donghyuck’s face for any sign of deceit, but Donghyuck’s expression is stuck on some unreadable emotion that Jaemin thinks maybe he doesn’t want to decipher. The points of Donghyuck’s teeth are piercing his lip now, forcing him to stretch his smile wider. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Another completely asinine offer, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Anything to placate Donghyuck.

Donghyuck nods, and his ever-growing smile looks painful. Jaemin waits for Donghyuck to say something more, but after several heartbeats he’s still silent, and Jaemin can’t bear to look at that inhuman grin anymore. He meets the glowing green of Donghyuck’s eyes one last time, then turns around and starts off toward home.

He’s barely taken three steps when Donghyuck opens his mouth again, words falling out syrupy sweet. “Actually, why wait till tomorrow?” he says like the thought has just occurred to him. “Right, Jaemin?”

 _Never turn around to check behind you._ It’s the first rule of the forest, the most important lesson every child is taught. It’s the most basic instruction, and Jaemin has followed it his entire life. He’ll never know how many times it’s saved him, and doesn’t really want to, either. But he’ll always know how many times forgetting that rule failed him.

One. All it takes is one look back, and Donghyuck is there, teeth gnashing with a fervor that Jaemin doesn’t think has a name. Jaemin grabs his knife, even though he knows it’s futile, he’s already dead, but his natural sense of self-preservation kicks in and tells him he has to fight back. And he tries, he really does. But the thing is, he’s made one other fatal mistake; one other forgotten rule that could have changed everything, if he’d let it.

_If you bring a knife with you, name it. Otherwise the blade will turn against you as soon as you try to use it._

Jaemin forgot to name his knife. The blade turns.

-

Jeno finds him, days later, his own bloody knife stuck in his chest.

He’s known something was wrong for weeks now, but Jaemin hadn’t given him anything to work with. He’d found out about the owl the night before Jaemin disappeared, and no one had believed him when he said Jaemin had made a pact with the monster of the forest. They’d all insisted Jaemin was too sensible for that, too careful - and Jeno would’ve said the same, if it weren’t for the missing pendant and the pleading of a scared boy with something beyond his control.

So Jeno goes to the woods, and it takes some time without a guide, but he finds it. Finds the clearing, finds Jaemin, finds _him._

A boy, with skin like gold and eyes an eerie green. A boy who walks up to stand beside him, all graceful movements and a soft touch on Jeno’s arm. “I want you to be my friend, Jeno.”

Jeno knows it’s a lie when he sees his cross dangling from the boy’s neck, but he also knows better than to argue with magic. “What do I have to do to be your friend?”

The smile he gets in reply is nothing but teeth.

**Author's Note:**

> in case you were wondering, hyuck is based off of the leshy aka guardian of the forest and the hunt
> 
> please go wish jaem a happy bday!!! <3 and come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/mullethyuck) while you're at it :3


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